Cry
by lrigD
Summary: My tag to Good Cops, Bad Cops. A moment between Tony and Ziva.


_**This story is exactly 999 words, how cool is that?!**_

_**Anyway... not the point.**_

_**I loved Good Cops, Bad Cops. It had everything in it and it just rocked. I won't go into a deep analysis here, but it was an amazing episode.**_

_**This is a little tag that takes place a few days after the episode. It starts in Ziva's point of view, then switches to Tony. I thought of Gibbs, but then Tony kind of wrote himself...**_

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I do not cry.

I just don't. I have never seen any reason for it. Nothing gets accomplished, the only thing someone will gain is a head ache and pity.

Of course I am familiar with persuasive tears. I admit I have done so once or twice. But never on a personal matter. It was always when I had something to achieve – when I was on a case. Not because I was sad.

And even with the events of the past few days –the past few months, really– I have managed to continually compose myself. I did not let my guard down. Technically, I was still following the orders, the ones that were drilled into me even before I joined Mossad officially: do not show weakness. Emotions are not worth showing to the world.

But now I cannot stop. And I wonder why – I achieved my original goal, which was to be an accepted member of the team again. Of NCIS. And even as a Probie I am part of that team. The turmoil of the past months is over.

And yet – yet there is something that keeps my eyes wet. Small things – a hug from Abby, a teasing joke from Tony – make me tear up. It makes me feel weak, inside, but I know it is a good thing.

I still don't cry. I feel tears come up, but they do not come out.

Am I still dead inside?

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He was looking at her closely from behind his desk. She wasn't really working, even though she still had to deal with the files McGee and he had given her a few days back. She was looking ahead blankly, toying absent-mindedly with her necklace. She didn't have that dead look anymore, the one she had carried so often recently, but it still wasn't the way he liked it.

Then, to his horror, he notices the wetness near her eyes. He'd seen her tear up a few times, and it had surprised him, but he hadn't said anything to her about it. He figured she was going through enough as it was without him adding to it.

Now he can see that maybe that wasn't the right approach, and he stands up, waiting until she breaks her gaze and looks up at him, though her eyes are still not quite _here_.

He makes sure to make eye contact, trying to convey a message without any words – Gibbs and McGee are both nearby, though he thinks Gibbs wouldn't mind. He walks away, to the elevator, which he had inadvertently dubbed 'their place'. Of course, there is the men's room, but Tony likes _some_ of his privacy to remain intact.

She follows. He doesn't see it, but he can hear the soft footsteps behind him.

He has no plan; no idea how to act, what to do. He just presses the elevator button and waits until the doors go open, with Ziva slightly behind him.

Inside the elevator, they are both silent. He waits until they are a decent amount away from their floor and then flips the emergency handle. Nobody will pay it much attention: Gibbs unofficial interrogation room is quite known.

They face each other. He sees the fear in her eyes, but at least they aren't dead.

His mind draws a blank, but thankfully she breaks the silence.

"I hope you are not doing this out of pity," she says, staring hardly at him. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

"Never," he declares solemnly.

And just like that, the tears are there again. They are making her brown eyes shine and he wants to reach forward to wipe them away – but he refrains. They're not that far yet.

"Ziva..." he says at the same time she starts talking. She makes a gesture, and he takes a deep breath before continuing.

"Glad to have you back," he says, cringing at the lameness of the remark. Of course they are glad.

She nods, just once. "So am I," she replies. Her eyes look down for a moment. "More glad than I would have imagined."

He's a little surprised by the emotion in her voice, after she's been so carefully devoid of any emotion for the past few days.

He's not sure what to do, but then he remembers something, like a whispered memory: _Sometimes a touch is enough._

He steps forward tentatively and wraps his arms around her – she's tense at first, but then relaxes into his embrace with a quiet sigh.

He doesn't know how long they stand her. At one point, he feels wetness soaking her shirt, and he knows she is crying, but he doesn't pull back, just pulls her tighter against him. Maybe too tight –she makes a small sound of discomfort– but that doesn't matter right now.

Eventually, she is the one who pulls back. Once she's out of his arms, she avoids his eyes until she can no longer; and when she finally looks at him, she breaks into a careful smile.

"Thank you," she tells him, still smiling. He can see she's a little uncomfortable, a little awkward, as he knew it would be; but at the moment, he is just glad she is alive, and talking.

"Anytime," he replies, and he means it. There are tear tracks on her face and he leans forward to wipe them away, smiling softly at her. Something happened in this moment. It feels like the balance has shifted, but he cannot figure out what it is.

Then suddenly someone shouts down the elevator shaft and the moment is lost. She averts her eyes and he yells back, and within moments they're moving again.

When they reach their floor again, they go to their respective desks and ignore the questioning looks from McGee and the knowing ones from Gibbs. They don't talk, but every time their eyes meet, they smile.

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_**So... Please review? I'm dying to hear something from other NCIS fans. Everybody around here is getting very annoyed with my talking about it!**_


End file.
